


Botch

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim (with his accomplice) muddles another sickbay appointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Botch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ritsuko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/gifts).



> A/N: Happy Holidays, Rits! I took your McSpirk, 3some, and BJ prompts.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_This_ time it’s going to work. Nothing can stop him. Leonard cheated, in a sense, but that doesn’t matter; Jim’s cheated his way out of almost every single regulation required checkup since they started this damn forever-lost-in-space mission. And now Leonard’s _finally_ going to pin him down, because Leonard spent the better part of last night privately convincing Spock that it’s best for the mission, the ship, their relationship, and their shared t’hy’la that Jim get his damn checkup completed before Leonard murders him out of frustration. If there’s one thing that can lure Jim into a snake pit, it’s Spock. 

Usually, on definitely-getting-the-captain-today days, Leonard heads straight from the lab to the bridge, sure he’ll have to wrestle Jim down by force. Today, he packs up his equipment and heads for his private office, confident Spock will deliver. He might be an unfeeling computer at times, but surely he can recognize the importance of health. Besides, he promised to deliver the captain to Leonard’s officer, and despite Leonard’s knowledge to the contrary, Spock likes to keep up the pretense that Vulcans never lie. 

He already knows he’s won when he reaches his office. He can see the silhouetted shadow of a visitor through the warped glass window, and when the door slides open for him, it comes with the little beep to say the office is occupied. The door swishes shut behind him, Leonard looks for his box of sterilized gloves for a good old-fashioned doctor-from-your-worst-nightmares affect, and finds himself gaping at the floor instead. 

He got Jim, alright. He got Jim Kirk, kneeling on the hard floor between Spock’s spread legs, pink lips spread wide as he drags his tongue down the Vulcan’s engorged, green-tinted cock. For half a second, Leonard’s ensnared, lost in the burning allure of Jim’s blue eyes, his wet mouth, the sight of Spock’s impressive length always a temptation in itself. Then Leonard forces himself to get it together—he’s too old for these Academy antics, and he snarls, “Nice try, kid.”

Jim lifts his blond eyebrows like he has no idea what Leonard’s talking about, and he laps his way up to the spongy tip of Spock’s dick. He gives it a small suckle, then plunges down, impaling himself all the way to the root, his cheek bulging out and his adam’s apple bobbing as he takes one of his lovers down his throat. Spock’s dark lashes flutter, his long fingers gripping the table, but he gives no more reaction. He isn’t looking at Leonard, probably so Leonard can’t see his shame. They’ve been had again. Even with all his uniform on, Spock is a beautiful specimen, and Leonard almost hates Jim for laying that out for him. Not now. He’s not going to get into another of those kinky alien probe sessions right now. He glares at Jim instead, until Jim slides his way off Spock’s cock, parting with a wet popping sound and a contented mewl. He nuzzles himself into Spock’s base, nose digging into the dark curls and his tongue laving over Spock’s tight balls. Jim moans like a horny Orion, “Hello, Bones.”

Leonard grunts, “I hate you both.” Spock lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, and Jim grins lazily and sucks one of Spock’s balls into his mouth, eyes falling shut and cheeks blushing like nothing in the world gives him more pleasure. Somewhere along the line, Leonard’s reached out for the table, gripping it for support like Spock is. He should’ve known this would happen. He should’ve never let them come together. Jim’s such a _child_ sometimes, but he’s also a full-grown man with the body of a god and the mouth of a professional. By the time Jim’s finished with Spock’s balls, Spock’s tip is leaking, and all Leonard wants in that moment is to see Jim lick it clean. He forces himself to say instead, “You have an _appointment_.”

Jim looks at him with that wicked, James-Kirk-always-gets-his-way grin, and purrs, “Do you want to give me a prostate exam or check my mouth? I only have time for one.” His lips are brushing Spock’s dick while he says it, and Spock actually looks up at the ceiling, like praying to whatever damn deities Vulcans have. He’s supposed to be stronger than this. 

But then, it’s extremely hard to stay strong with Jim Kirk on his knees before you, and even as Leonard wants to yell his head off and get his gloves like he planned, his hands are moving to his pants. It takes a moment of extreme will power to stop them. But he’s not _that_ strong. 

He reaches forward instead. He knots a fist in Jim’s golden hair and uses it to tug Jim to his feet—Jim cries out in pain and stumbles up, face infuriatingly triumphant. He always loves when Leonard gets rough, and it takes all of Leonard’s power to _punish_ away, but he has to do _something_. He shoves Jim towards the medtable in the corner, and Jim stumbles into it. Over his shoulder, Leonard hisses at Spock, “I’ll deal with you later.” Spock’s expression is predictably serene and unaffected, but the twitch of his cock betrays his interest. 

He says coolly, “My shift does not begin with the captain’s. I will stay and discuss the appropriate measures.” Or take Leonard’s cock while they gripe over their mess of a third, but that wouldn’t be a very Vulcan thing to say. Leonard nods and puts him aside; it’s true that there’s limited time with Jim, and Jim needs a lesson _now_.

Jim, leaned half over the table, has his ass stuck out and a smirk on his face like he expects to be rewarded with a quick, hard fuck. He’s a menace. The way his pants stretch across his ass is absolutely sinful. Leonard wastes no time in shoving the black fabric down, bunching it around Jim’s thighs and exposing the taut, pink cheeks of his ass. Leonard grabs either one in his hands, kneading the warm flesh and making Jim moan and arch back into him. He’s sure Jim’s cock is hard against the table’s edge, but Leonard has no intention of touching it today. Maybe not for a week, or at least, not until that checkup happens. There’s no way Leonard can do it now; he’s not that strong. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll tie Jim up in his sleep, drag him down to sickbay like that and force him through the damn thing. It would serve him right, and after this mishap, Spock might even help. That nerve-pinch could come in handy. 

For now, Leonard grumbles, “You’re a very naughty boy, Jim.”

Jim wriggles his ass insolently and purrs, “You going to punish me with your big, fat cock, Bones?”

“No,” Leonard hisses, “with my hand.” He gets a split second to enjoy the surprised look on Jim’s face, and then he pulls his hand away and rains the back of it down in a swift, harsh swat that catches Jim across both cheeks so hard that Jim loses his footing. Leonard quickly steadies him by his lower back, shoving him against the paper sheet of the medtable, and goes in for the second blow. 

This time, Jim yelps, fingers clutching at the table’s edge, but this office is soundproof for a reason. Leonard gives him less time to adjust, hits him again, and Jim cries out again, given no time to breathe. Leonard brings his hand down again, again, slapping Jim across both cheeks, then one at a time, turning the left one pink, then the right, then over the top of his thighs, and Jim starts to squirm in Leonard’s grasp. Seeing Jim squirm is one of his favourite things, coupled with Jim’s needy little moans and pained whimpers. It fuels him on to go harder and faster, relentless in his punishment. Jim takes it without protest, probably weighing it out against a checkup, which would, of course, be far less painful, but also far less _fun_.

There’s no time for the checkup now. Leonard knows that. So he fills the time instead with far more blows than this transgression probably deserves, but then, Leonard could just as well be punishing Jim for all of them, for every time he’s weaseled his way out of sickbay. Leonard doesn’t stop until his hand is sore, he’s panting from exertion, excitement, and there are tears in the corner of Jim’s eyes. Still, Leonard holds Jim firmly down. He glances over his shoulder to ask, “You want a go?”

Spock lifts an arched eyebrow again and says smoothly, “I was under the impression I was also out of favour.”

“Yeah, but my hand’s starting to sting, and we still have a few minutes to fill.”

“If your hand is experiencing an ache, I can only imagine what the captain’s posterior is going through.”

Leonard snorts, though he knows it wasn’t intended as a joke, just Spock’s usual dry commentary. Jim makes a weak grown to concur, and Leonard announces, “He deserves it.” Turning back, Leonard gives Jim’s reddened rear another swat, and Jim makes a choking noise. He looks utterly wrecked, which is just the way it should be. Leonard doesn’t envy him having to go sit in the captain’s chair for eight hours, but then, he should’ve thought of that before tricking his lover. All the same, Leonard’s pity eventually surfaces, and he sighs, “Alright. Get out of here.” He fists his fingers back in Jim’s hair and jerks Jim back up, yanking his pants back to right around his waist. Jim stumbles on his feet, looking flushed and dazed. There’s a sizeable bulge in his pants, but then, with how built he is, that’s hardly irregular. Leonard has it on good authority that more than half the crew enjoys the view, anyway. 

He pushes Jim towards the door, and Jim goes, looking partially pained, sullen, and a little excited. He looks at Spock on the way out, but of course, Spock isn’t the place to go for sympathy. 

When their naughty captain’s gone, Leonard points at the medtable and barks, “Your turn. Pants down.” For all his irritation over the failed appointment, there’s still a spark of overwhelming delight when Spock, however begrudgingly, obeys.


End file.
